When I first heard of goat yoga, I thought it was a joke. But I secretly hoped it was real.

I fell in love with goats when I covered agriculture for The Fence Post magazine. I love their wide-set eyes, floppy ears and goofy demeanor. I seek them out at events like the Weld County Fair because they make me laugh and usually let me pet them.

And then my friend scored two tickets to goat yoga in Loveland, and when she invited me along, I knew it was real.

On June 11, we drove up to Barnyard Buddies, 3650 N Larimer County Road 3 in Loveland. I could barely sit still in the car as we parked. I couldn’t wait to see the goats.

Classes are limited to 30 people and tend to sell out. We had to get our tickets about a month in advance.

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I grabbed my bright green yoga mat and headed to the barn. We signed in and scurried toward the sound of tiny bleats. Baby goats sniffed, nudged and bounced around the sea of colorful yoga mats. Some wagged their tiny tails. They were adorable.

I rolled my mat out on the dirt. I didn’t even care that it probably soon would be covered in little goat poops. Soon after I sat down, a tiny black and white spotted goat pranced over to check me out.

His horns were just budding. He was soft and fuzzy. His little mouth was permanently set to look like a smile. He liked it when I scratched him under the chin and behind his long ears.

I threw my hair into a bun as we began the yoga. The goats meandered around and watched us settle into different poses. When I went into child’s pose, a goat came up behind me and nibbled on my bun. I couldn’t help but giggle as I tried to keep my eyes closed.

We moved into a couple other poses before we took a break to play with the goats. The class was full of adults giggling and laughing as the goats climbed into their laps to munch on their clothes.

A Barnyard Buddies employee walked around placing feed at the top of our mats when we went into a downward dog. Goats flocked around me, and some ran in between my legs to get to the food, bleating at each other. I held my pose, barely, between the laughs. I had to break it and stand up when the group got too big. They bounced to the next mat after they ate all the food near me.

At one point, several of us lined up on our hands and knees to make a bridge. Baby goats walked across the human bridge, and some just plopped down for a rest on our backs.

Toward the end of the session, I did a back bend pose and someone placed a baby goat on my stomach. It stayed there for several seconds before it jumped off.

When the class ended, we stuck around to pet the goats a bit more.

I’ve definitely gone to physically harder yoga classes, but this one was the most fun by far. I couldn’t stop smiling and giggling with the little creatures, though I’ll admit I was sore the next day.

I can’t wait to go back and spend more time with the goats. If it weren’t for the fact I live in a tiny apartment, I might have tried to take a couple kids home with me.

— Kelly Ragan writes features and covers health for The Greeley Tribune. Have a tip? Want to share your story? Call (970) 392-4424, email kragan@greeleytribune.com or connect on Twitter @kelly_raygun.